@BellBottomBlues What are the exact parameters of Finnigan's leg injuries? Like, how much of the legs were destroyed, and if partially, which parts?
Bilateral femur fractures, shattered patella. Surprisingly though nothing's broke skin.
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Bilateral femur fractures, shattered patella. Surprisingly though nothing's broke skin.
The march had been glorious, ten thousand men trudging through the thicket of the beastly Aetherion forest. A conglomeration of Imperial families all moving onward with the same, vicious intent. It was here that the Imperium would cast the decisive blow against the elves and establish a foothold to drive further into the heart of their country. Darian could not be more pleased. He rode near the middle of the great column, the Wintergate Fighters holding true to their sigil akin to that of the Rangers, except instead of the cunning of a fox twas the ferocious image of a bear. The Rangers rode in the back of the column, typical for those winter vagabonds. Not that he cared, more glory for his cup.
That's when Darian heard the battle trumpets and saw the first line form up along the edge of the forest. Darian could see the exploit in the distance, a section of wall not completely cordoned off, a section his dear brother had located. He had not heard any word from Lanik since his departure. Perhaps the elves had eliminated him already. That would make things easier. A volley of arrows released from the Imperial side of the forest only to be stopped mid-air. Darian widened his eyes, witchcraft surely. These elves were talented no doubt, but they bore no match for the might of Imperial steel.
There was a brief, almost peaceful silence before the first line officer gave way into the field. Darian grinned, watching the wall of men sprint towards death. They made good pace, screaming, cursing and laughing all the way until they reached three quarters of the way in. They were greeted by the ground exploding beneath them, tossing legionnaires up into the sky like rag dolls while crashing back into the earth with sickening crunches and wails. Elemental forces of every kind barraged the helpless men from all sides. Ice froze even the most steadfast of warriors, fire charred the flesh and gusts of wind sent men tumbling this way and that. It was a massacre, and Darian reveled in it.
That's why the pawns always go first he thought to himself.
"Watch her. If you get an opportunity, subdue her and bring her to me. I want her alive," Darian heard the General say.
Darian raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He reached for his own scope and peered through sighting a silver-haired elven beauty in the distance. The composer in this symphony of destruction.
Pretty elf, he licked his lips, I'll have my way with you after the General.
Then there was the second battle horn. His men were up.
The Wintergate Fighter's lined up along the clearing of the forest. They beat their shields, growling, anticipating the fight ahead. The Rangers on the other hand took the flanks, hooded and enigmatic, equipped to move quickly. Darian paced back and forth on his steed, staring deep into the eyes of his men, unsheathing his sword.
"Let's show these imps the taste of Wintergate steel!" he screamed, the men immediately reciprocated.
"For Marcus! For the King! For the Imperium!" he pointed into the distance, "THERE WILL BE BLOOD!"
THERE WILL BE BLOOD!
The men of Wintergate charged forward with hearts of steel and intentions as vicious as cold-blooded bandits.
There is a certain kind of helplessness a man can only feel when thrust into the real of the present. Lanik was feeling all these things at once, and more. Had his rangers completed their mission? Or were they captured? Finnigan, is he going to make it? Lanik was not a healer by any means. He had constructed a splint and tied it against Finnigan's legs, but other than that, he wasn't sure what else he could do. Night had fallen heavily upon the forest and the two weary souls, and the temperature had dropped far enough for their breaths to leave whispers of air with every exhalation. They would either die from hypothermia or from these elves. Lanik could feel a hopelessness growing in the pit of his stomach, a strange sensation he hadn't felt since --
Elvish dialect broke the silent night, but Lanik could make out a name.. . Yanduin.
Lanik instinctively drew an arrow and raised his bow, weapon aimed towards the sound. From the depths of the forest emerged a slender figure, an elf. He was just about to release his charge when he noticed her expression soften, as if in pity. He eyed her carefully. He had never seen an elf before, not in person at least. Darian had described them as vicious, blood-thirsty murderers.. . and that may have been true but their physical elegance sure contradicted such ideas. Lanik and Finnigan were dirtied and sweat ridden, the three crimson blood imprints over their faces smudged from heavy exertion and exhaustion alike. And then she spoke.
"May I help?"
Captain Wintergate was taken aback. He lowered his bow, and slowed his breathing. He was prepared for a fight, but... had she just offered to help him? He frowned.
"Who are you?"
Finnigan grunted in pain once more, writhing against the thick trunk of the tree.
Lanik cut his question off, and slid the cloak he had laid over Finnigan to maintain some warmth off his lower limbs. Lanik's splints were in place, but it still was a mangled mess.
"I've done what I can.. . but I'm no healer. Will he be able to walk again?" Lanik cupped Finnigan's cheek, whose face was overwhelmed with pain, "Easy brother, there's someone here to help you,"
That's when Darian heard the battle trumpets and saw the first line form up along the edge of the forest. Darian could see the exploit in the distance, a section of wall not completely cordoned off, a section his dear brother had located. He had not heard any word from Lanik since his departure. Perhaps the elves had eliminated him already. That would make things easier. A volley of arrows released from the Imperial side of the forest only to be stopped mid-air. Darian widened his eyes, witchcraft surely. These elves were talented no doubt, but they bore no match for the might of Imperial steel.
There was a brief, almost peaceful silence before the first line officer gave way into the field. Darian grinned, watching the wall of men sprint towards death. They made good pace, screaming, cursing and laughing all the way until they reached three quarters of the way in. They were greeted by the ground exploding beneath them, tossing legionnaires up into the sky like rag dolls while crashing back into the earth with sickening crunches and wails. Elemental forces of every kind barraged the helpless men from all sides. Ice froze even the most steadfast of warriors, fire charred the flesh and gusts of wind sent men tumbling this way and that. It was a massacre, and Darian reveled in it.
That's why the pawns always go first he thought to himself.
"Watch her. If you get an opportunity, subdue her and bring her to me. I want her alive," Darian heard the General say.
Darian raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He reached for his own scope and peered through sighting a silver-haired elven beauty in the distance. The composer in this symphony of destruction.
Pretty elf, he licked his lips, I'll have my way with you after the General.
Then there was the second battle horn. His men were up.
The Wintergate Fighter's lined up along the clearing of the forest. They beat their shields, growling, anticipating the fight ahead. The Rangers on the other hand took the flanks, hooded and enigmatic, equipped to move quickly. Darian paced back and forth on his steed, staring deep into the eyes of his men, unsheathing his sword.
"Let's show these imps the taste of Wintergate steel!" he screamed, the men immediately reciprocated.
"For Marcus! For the King! For the Imperium!" he pointed into the distance, "THERE WILL BE BLOOD!"
THERE WILL BE BLOOD!
The men of Wintergate charged forward with hearts of steel and intentions as vicious as cold-blooded bandits.
✱ ✲ ✳ ✴ ✵
There is a certain kind of helplessness a man can only feel when thrust into the real of the present. Lanik was feeling all these things at once, and more. Had his rangers completed their mission? Or were they captured? Finnigan, is he going to make it? Lanik was not a healer by any means. He had constructed a splint and tied it against Finnigan's legs, but other than that, he wasn't sure what else he could do. Night had fallen heavily upon the forest and the two weary souls, and the temperature had dropped far enough for their breaths to leave whispers of air with every exhalation. They would either die from hypothermia or from these elves. Lanik could feel a hopelessness growing in the pit of his stomach, a strange sensation he hadn't felt since --
Elvish dialect broke the silent night, but Lanik could make out a name.. . Yanduin.
Lanik instinctively drew an arrow and raised his bow, weapon aimed towards the sound. From the depths of the forest emerged a slender figure, an elf. He was just about to release his charge when he noticed her expression soften, as if in pity. He eyed her carefully. He had never seen an elf before, not in person at least. Darian had described them as vicious, blood-thirsty murderers.. . and that may have been true but their physical elegance sure contradicted such ideas. Lanik and Finnigan were dirtied and sweat ridden, the three crimson blood imprints over their faces smudged from heavy exertion and exhaustion alike. And then she spoke.
"May I help?"
Captain Wintergate was taken aback. He lowered his bow, and slowed his breathing. He was prepared for a fight, but... had she just offered to help him? He frowned.
"Who are you?"
Finnigan grunted in pain once more, writhing against the thick trunk of the tree.
Lanik cut his question off, and slid the cloak he had laid over Finnigan to maintain some warmth off his lower limbs. Lanik's splints were in place, but it still was a mangled mess.
"I've done what I can.. . but I'm no healer. Will he be able to walk again?" Lanik cupped Finnigan's cheek, whose face was overwhelmed with pain, "Easy brother, there's someone here to help you,"
Beads of sweat dripped relentlessly down Lanik's face, his breathing hoarse and strenuous, every limb succumbing to a numb ache at every movement up the cliff. If the situation were favorable Lanik would have constructed some sort of contraption to bare the load of Finnigan's dead weight more efficiently, but time and resources were all but limited. It took the best of him to scale to the top, and when he finally reached, he collapsed, suffocating in his fatigue. Finnigan, still unconscious lay limp on the rocky surface. Lanik could feel exhaustion overtaking him, but he had to keep moving, at least to an area that afforded more shelter. Catching his breath, the Captain grabbed Finnigan from under his shoulders, pulling him slowly into the safety of the brush.
He kept his pace for an hour before finding a clear space in a grove that offered some semblance of concealment. When Lanik finally arrived, he was spent. Resting Finnigan against a tree, Lanik turned over, puking, straining his stomach from such physical intensity not long before. The Ranger had scaled a twenty foot cliff and tread through the forest for an hour -- all the while carrying the dead weight of a fully grown man. How he'd lasted so long was beyond him, but the thought must have came upon too quickly for not long after his vision was starting to blur.
Night was slowly rolling over the sentinel mountains, beckoning the shadowy wildlife and critters to cry their telling voices. As the sun set and the stars winked vixen promises at the earth, Lanik could feel the temperature quickly dropping. He toyed with the idea of a fire but that would be wickedly obvious and easily alert any discerning tracker for miles around. What else could he do? As he questioned this he heard a shuffling sound beside him, Finnigan was coming back. Lanik watched him awake all in one swoop, Finnigan's eyes flashed wide open, pain overwhelming his senses, he wailed into the dark night.
"Shut up! Shut up!" Lanik hissed, jumping to his side and covering the injured's mouth.
Finnigan whimpered but could fully understand the intent behind his officers command. The two men eyed each other closely, and after a moment Lanik released his death grip over Finnigan's mouth.
"My legs, my fucking legs," Finnigan gasped in horror, looking down at the mangled mess that was his lower limbs. He winced in pain, grunting, and craning his neck back, anything to offset that pain that jolted through his body.
"God damnit," Lanik looked back into the darkness of the forest, then to his man that lay before him.
He needed help. And he needed it soon.
He kept his pace for an hour before finding a clear space in a grove that offered some semblance of concealment. When Lanik finally arrived, he was spent. Resting Finnigan against a tree, Lanik turned over, puking, straining his stomach from such physical intensity not long before. The Ranger had scaled a twenty foot cliff and tread through the forest for an hour -- all the while carrying the dead weight of a fully grown man. How he'd lasted so long was beyond him, but the thought must have came upon too quickly for not long after his vision was starting to blur.
Night was slowly rolling over the sentinel mountains, beckoning the shadowy wildlife and critters to cry their telling voices. As the sun set and the stars winked vixen promises at the earth, Lanik could feel the temperature quickly dropping. He toyed with the idea of a fire but that would be wickedly obvious and easily alert any discerning tracker for miles around. What else could he do? As he questioned this he heard a shuffling sound beside him, Finnigan was coming back. Lanik watched him awake all in one swoop, Finnigan's eyes flashed wide open, pain overwhelming his senses, he wailed into the dark night.
"Shut up! Shut up!" Lanik hissed, jumping to his side and covering the injured's mouth.
Finnigan whimpered but could fully understand the intent behind his officers command. The two men eyed each other closely, and after a moment Lanik released his death grip over Finnigan's mouth.
"My legs, my fucking legs," Finnigan gasped in horror, looking down at the mangled mess that was his lower limbs. He winced in pain, grunting, and craning his neck back, anything to offset that pain that jolted through his body.
"God damnit," Lanik looked back into the darkness of the forest, then to his man that lay before him.
He needed help. And he needed it soon.
I've rarely had to write this much this consistently. Generally, if I'm about to run into any RP rules like controlling other's characters, I'll stop at the point where their input is required, which results in a very short post. Normally I'd be fine with that, but when you've written up such long, beautiful story posts, I feel it would be shameful to write much less, so avoiding power-playing will be a bit more problematic for me.
Additionally, my concept of the story at the moment does not lend itself to substantial content. I'm not very good at describing environments, so to bulk up a post, I would normally delve into a character's thoughts. But Erudessa's thoughts aren't very complicated right now - she just gave orders and is hanging back to watch the outcome. There's not much going on in the way of observation or analysis. She's not a particularly competent fighter compared to her soldiers; in fact, she'd probably lose a melee confrontation with any one Imperial soldier. Getting down and dirty would be most unwise. So I don't have a lot to write about right now.
What I'm trying to say is, please don't be mad. I'm still learning as an RPer. This RP is a brand new challenge that I haven't yet developed competency in.
PSH! Hey @Thinslayer, I'm not mad man. Haha, and honestly your willingness to talk about these things makes me like you all the more. Few people can do that, let me tell you. Very often you come across these masochist RPers that are just ignorant and won't take no for an answer. But this is good. If I can recommend anything it's to describe -everything-, and there's no rush. Put yourself in a place where you challenge yourself to bring the thoughts in your mind into words. Why isn't she a competent fighter? Heck, after reading how gitty and playful she was with those glitter mine-bombs at the beginning I was hooked, I knew I'd like her. You don't need to describe her ENTIRE past, you can leave the parts you want Lanik to find out, but I have very little information of her to play off of other than she's this playful elf that likes to play tricks on others. That's cool, but there's apart of me that wants to know more even before her and Lanik meet, y'know?
I hope I didn't come off as elitist in my previous OOC post, there's no hard feelings at all, and I'm here with ya all the way.
And one last thing, take your time. If you need to take a week to craft a post to your liking then do it. I won't dog on you. This is a collaboration remember? ^^
@Thinslayer
Hey there! No worries at all.
Everybody does it differently, but I would start with only ever using your own characters perspective or a new one you see fit to introduce in response posts. (Eg. Maybe Eru's second in command sees the two rangers). In any post you can only work with the setting given to you, and here it's important to never make assumptions. These are some of the core facts from my previous post:
- Lanik has a wounded Finnigan on his back
- the cliff breaking made a hell of a lot of noise
- and he's trying to get out of the area
These are undeniable facts. Things like how Lanik is handling the situation are completely up to me. What is up to YOU is how your characters (Eru and her merry band of elves I'm assuming) will take those three facts and respond (Mind you, if you can muster up any other kind of information from my post then go for it, those were just the three from the top of my head). Control of other peoples characters is completely prohibited, however, taking established facts and building a post around the information available is more than welcome.
I'll just shoot some examples:
FACT 1: It wasn't but a few paces away a man garbed in ranger clothing stumbled, carrying another over his shoulders.
FACT 2: There was a sound in the distance, discernible to any trained ear, a strange enough falling of rocks to warrant investigation.
FACT 3: The stumbling figure moved at a slow pace and one could easily tell the burden on his shoulders weighed heavily on his ability to move quickly through the forest.
How I normally approach reply posts (unless it's integral to introduce a new character with a new perspective) is to establish particular facts from a persons previous posts and then just build around it. Why is my character feeling this way because of what he or she said? What in the current moment is on the characters mind? Are there any tidbits of information I could throw in to make the scene more believable? After establishing all that THEN I'll actually get to the part where I reply to the situation. And I always leave it open-ended.
There's nothing wrong with that. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. It's open ended, and well, it's exactly what it is. You didn't state whether or not they found its mark, you left that up to me. Could I turn around in my post and say "With keen reflexes Lanik dropped Finnigan and spun around, grabbing the bolts mid-air and lobbed them back at the elves!"? Well I could, but I figure you trust me enough to play on the situation and let him take the hit. Remember, it's a collaboration, and I will always play to your tendencies, but a persons character is forever their own and nobody can ever change that. So, TLDR.
- always control your own characters
- play off the information given to you by the previous poster
- don't be afraid to introduce new situations in order to direct the flow of the story
I'll briefly explain that last one, because well, I never told you somebody was going to fall off a cliff, but I did that so I could put my people in a position for your people to find them. That's what I mean about introducing new situations.
I hope this helps, and I feel like it was a good learning opportunity for the both of us.
Hey there! No worries at all.
Everybody does it differently, but I would start with only ever using your own characters perspective or a new one you see fit to introduce in response posts. (Eg. Maybe Eru's second in command sees the two rangers). In any post you can only work with the setting given to you, and here it's important to never make assumptions. These are some of the core facts from my previous post:
- Lanik has a wounded Finnigan on his back
"Son of a bitch," Lanik cursed to himself, quickly pushing away the rubble and lifting Finnigan up over his shoulders.
- the cliff breaking made a hell of a lot of noise
There was a loud crashing noise, surely enough to alarm anyone in the vicinity.
They were in the worst possible position, and they had made enough noise.
- and he's trying to get out of the area
These were critical seconds he needed to use to get his ranger back into the safety of the forest, where they surely stood a better chance of hiding than out here against these cold rock formations.
These are undeniable facts. Things like how Lanik is handling the situation are completely up to me. What is up to YOU is how your characters (Eru and her merry band of elves I'm assuming) will take those three facts and respond (Mind you, if you can muster up any other kind of information from my post then go for it, those were just the three from the top of my head). Control of other peoples characters is completely prohibited, however, taking established facts and building a post around the information available is more than welcome.
I'll just shoot some examples:
FACT 1: It wasn't but a few paces away a man garbed in ranger clothing stumbled, carrying another over his shoulders.
FACT 2: There was a sound in the distance, discernible to any trained ear, a strange enough falling of rocks to warrant investigation.
FACT 3: The stumbling figure moved at a slow pace and one could easily tell the burden on his shoulders weighed heavily on his ability to move quickly through the forest.
How I normally approach reply posts (unless it's integral to introduce a new character with a new perspective) is to establish particular facts from a persons previous posts and then just build around it. Why is my character feeling this way because of what he or she said? What in the current moment is on the characters mind? Are there any tidbits of information I could throw in to make the scene more believable? After establishing all that THEN I'll actually get to the part where I reply to the situation. And I always leave it open-ended.
Yanduin and Bethdul dropped from their treetop perches and fired a burst of crossbow bolts at Lanik's back.
There's nothing wrong with that. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. It's open ended, and well, it's exactly what it is. You didn't state whether or not they found its mark, you left that up to me. Could I turn around in my post and say "With keen reflexes Lanik dropped Finnigan and spun around, grabbing the bolts mid-air and lobbed them back at the elves!"? Well I could, but I figure you trust me enough to play on the situation and let him take the hit. Remember, it's a collaboration, and I will always play to your tendencies, but a persons character is forever their own and nobody can ever change that. So, TLDR.
- always control your own characters
- play off the information given to you by the previous poster
- don't be afraid to introduce new situations in order to direct the flow of the story
I'll briefly explain that last one, because well, I never told you somebody was going to fall off a cliff, but I did that so I could put my people in a position for your people to find them. That's what I mean about introducing new situations.
I hope this helps, and I feel like it was a good learning opportunity for the both of us.
@Thinslayer
With all due respect you can't take control of Lanik like that.
With all due respect you can't take control of Lanik like that.
The seven rangers were scrounging the outback for nearly three days, taking routes off the beaten path and being sure to stay hidden amongst the mobs of foliage. There was a distinct difference between the mountains he tread now and those back in the frosty tip of Northaven, and as one might have guessed it was such: snow. No longer was Lanik garbed in his winter gear, shedding the winter layers for a more sleeker, more form fitting outfit consisting of deer leathers and a dark green cloak. His sword, a masterful piece of craftsmanship held tight against his back, crossing one way while a loaded quiver crossed the other. He moved swiftly through the forest as if he had lived in the Aetherion mountains his entire life. If there was one thing Lanik was skilled at it was keeping direction. He was never lost.
The forest groaned as Lanik and his second moved onward. Captain Wintergate ordered them all to split up into groups consisting of two pairs and one trio. He drew up specific travel notations for each group, and while no group would ever be too far away from the other, they maintained enough spacing so that should one group be compromised, the others would be safe. General Cornell had assigned him a priority mission and failure was simply not an option. In this way even if Lanik himself was to be caught the others would be in well enough position to relay critical information back the the Imperial camp. Not that the Wintergate father would ever be so careless as to throw his life away for any petty thing, but at his core he would always be an Imperial citizen. And such was a sovereignty that would forever be dangerous, no matter who bear the title.
Lanik could sense an invigoration overwhelm his senses as he passed through the forest. The quiet ranger. Tracker. Pathfinder. It had been too long since he had the chance to enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Listening to the birds coercing overhead, Lanik couldn't help but feel conflicted with himself: whether he loved the fight or loved the idea of giving his efforts to a cause greater than he could imagine. Truth be told, he loved his country, but his more liberal leaning mindset numbed his tongue when it came to vocalizing it.
"Lanik, motion up ahead," Finnigan, his pairing, a womanizer who Lanik had known when his career was ripe spoke softly, his voice blending with whispers of the trees.
Lanik signaled him to stop and proceeded to take point. He squinted at a figure in the distance, stumbling around, limping, holding one arm and cursing and yelling something he couldn't quite make out... wait...
"Help me, somebody, help me!"
"Captain, he's a Legionnaire, look at his armor,"
Captain Wintergate nodded. A trap? No... he looks hurt. It couldn't be, could the elves be that cunning? The man suddenly collapsed to the forest floor, and after a brief look at each other the two rangers bounded out of the cover of the forest towards him. Finnigan kept careful watch of their surroundings while Lanik knelt.
"Are.. . are you Imperial? Are you with us?" the mans life was nearly spent, Lanik could see blood pooling at his hip.
Lanik nodded, "Imperial Captain, tell me, what happened to you?"
The man grimaced, forcing his voice, "They got us. They got us good. Our Captain got us lost in these forests, and the elves, they ambushed us. There was fire, and smoke," he coughed out blood, "One of them, their leader... she let me go, I don't know why,"
Lanik grabbed his hand as the man grimaced in pain, "She let you go? Like this?"
"No," the man chuckled, "Be careful near the cliffs here. Soft outcrop broke from underneath me and well," he forced a painful smile, "I took a little tumble,"
"Where?"
The legionnaire raised a limp hand and pointed into the distance, "That way, you can't miss it," his eyes were getting dreary, his breathing slowing.
"I can't fight no more, Captain, I would but I can't," the legionnaires eyes were now skyward as if seeing something Lanik couldn't.
"Rest easy, legionnaire," Lanik crossed the mans arms across his chest, "There will be blood,"
There will be blood.
As the common saying went among Imperial soldiers. Blood was such an integral part of Imperial fighting, it was no wonder it would be used in the vernacular. And while Lanik limited himself to only its drink, some men took it to a whole new ritualistic point -- bathing in it, reminding themselves that glory in combat was the only way to cleanse ones soul. Even Lanik had partaken in the tradition to a lesser point, a Wintergates take on it where a hunter would find a kill and use its blood to mark three scratches across his face. Lanik and Finnigan both had faces marred with the red ink before their excursion. Taking a moment to pay his respects, Lanik looked to Finnigan, who's hood was down and was mumbling a prayer for the body.
"We need to investigate, stay close to me, and stay quiet,"
Immediately the two of them took off. It wasn't long until they reached the carnage, or better still the aftermath. Bodies were strewn across the road. Charred wounds marked the flanking trees and an overturned wagon rose from the center. Who could have done this? It looked like a whole company was decimated here. The two rangers stood perched on an outcrop of rock that overlooked the kill-zone.
"Alright Fin, let's mo--,"
There was sharp cracking sound and then suddenly the cliff gave way. Lanik saw Finnigan's eyes light up in terror as the ground collapsed from underneath him. There was a loud crashing noise, surely enough to alarm anyone in the vicinity. A second later, Lanik was watching his man fall nearly twenty feet, crashing against straggly rocks and landing limp at the bottom, skirting the killzone.
"Finnigan!"
Lanik jumped into action immediately. These were critical seconds he needed to use to get his ranger back into the safety of the forest, where they surely stood a better chance of hiding than out here against these cold rock formations.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Lanik gracefully scaled the rock face, jumping to and fro as necessary to most quickly get to his man. His eyes widened in horror as he reached him, a close up view of his mangled legs, blood dripping from his nose. Finnigan was out cold. Lanik, kneeling at Finnigan's side looked around, sighting his surroundings. They were in the worst possible position, and they had made enough noise. Judging by Finnigan's condition there was no way he would be able to continue on.
"Son of a bitch," Lanik cursed to himself, quickly pushing away the rubble and lifting Finnigan up over his shoulders. He had to move quickly.
The forest groaned as Lanik and his second moved onward. Captain Wintergate ordered them all to split up into groups consisting of two pairs and one trio. He drew up specific travel notations for each group, and while no group would ever be too far away from the other, they maintained enough spacing so that should one group be compromised, the others would be safe. General Cornell had assigned him a priority mission and failure was simply not an option. In this way even if Lanik himself was to be caught the others would be in well enough position to relay critical information back the the Imperial camp. Not that the Wintergate father would ever be so careless as to throw his life away for any petty thing, but at his core he would always be an Imperial citizen. And such was a sovereignty that would forever be dangerous, no matter who bear the title.
Lanik could sense an invigoration overwhelm his senses as he passed through the forest. The quiet ranger. Tracker. Pathfinder. It had been too long since he had the chance to enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Listening to the birds coercing overhead, Lanik couldn't help but feel conflicted with himself: whether he loved the fight or loved the idea of giving his efforts to a cause greater than he could imagine. Truth be told, he loved his country, but his more liberal leaning mindset numbed his tongue when it came to vocalizing it.
"Lanik, motion up ahead," Finnigan, his pairing, a womanizer who Lanik had known when his career was ripe spoke softly, his voice blending with whispers of the trees.
Lanik signaled him to stop and proceeded to take point. He squinted at a figure in the distance, stumbling around, limping, holding one arm and cursing and yelling something he couldn't quite make out... wait...
"Help me, somebody, help me!"
"Captain, he's a Legionnaire, look at his armor,"
Captain Wintergate nodded. A trap? No... he looks hurt. It couldn't be, could the elves be that cunning? The man suddenly collapsed to the forest floor, and after a brief look at each other the two rangers bounded out of the cover of the forest towards him. Finnigan kept careful watch of their surroundings while Lanik knelt.
"Are.. . are you Imperial? Are you with us?" the mans life was nearly spent, Lanik could see blood pooling at his hip.
Lanik nodded, "Imperial Captain, tell me, what happened to you?"
The man grimaced, forcing his voice, "They got us. They got us good. Our Captain got us lost in these forests, and the elves, they ambushed us. There was fire, and smoke," he coughed out blood, "One of them, their leader... she let me go, I don't know why,"
Lanik grabbed his hand as the man grimaced in pain, "She let you go? Like this?"
"No," the man chuckled, "Be careful near the cliffs here. Soft outcrop broke from underneath me and well," he forced a painful smile, "I took a little tumble,"
"Where?"
The legionnaire raised a limp hand and pointed into the distance, "That way, you can't miss it," his eyes were getting dreary, his breathing slowing.
"I can't fight no more, Captain, I would but I can't," the legionnaires eyes were now skyward as if seeing something Lanik couldn't.
"Rest easy, legionnaire," Lanik crossed the mans arms across his chest, "There will be blood,"
There will be blood.
As the common saying went among Imperial soldiers. Blood was such an integral part of Imperial fighting, it was no wonder it would be used in the vernacular. And while Lanik limited himself to only its drink, some men took it to a whole new ritualistic point -- bathing in it, reminding themselves that glory in combat was the only way to cleanse ones soul. Even Lanik had partaken in the tradition to a lesser point, a Wintergates take on it where a hunter would find a kill and use its blood to mark three scratches across his face. Lanik and Finnigan both had faces marred with the red ink before their excursion. Taking a moment to pay his respects, Lanik looked to Finnigan, who's hood was down and was mumbling a prayer for the body.
"We need to investigate, stay close to me, and stay quiet,"
Immediately the two of them took off. It wasn't long until they reached the carnage, or better still the aftermath. Bodies were strewn across the road. Charred wounds marked the flanking trees and an overturned wagon rose from the center. Who could have done this? It looked like a whole company was decimated here. The two rangers stood perched on an outcrop of rock that overlooked the kill-zone.
"Alright Fin, let's mo--,"
There was sharp cracking sound and then suddenly the cliff gave way. Lanik saw Finnigan's eyes light up in terror as the ground collapsed from underneath him. There was a loud crashing noise, surely enough to alarm anyone in the vicinity. A second later, Lanik was watching his man fall nearly twenty feet, crashing against straggly rocks and landing limp at the bottom, skirting the killzone.
"Finnigan!"
Lanik jumped into action immediately. These were critical seconds he needed to use to get his ranger back into the safety of the forest, where they surely stood a better chance of hiding than out here against these cold rock formations.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Lanik gracefully scaled the rock face, jumping to and fro as necessary to most quickly get to his man. His eyes widened in horror as he reached him, a close up view of his mangled legs, blood dripping from his nose. Finnigan was out cold. Lanik, kneeling at Finnigan's side looked around, sighting his surroundings. They were in the worst possible position, and they had made enough noise. Judging by Finnigan's condition there was no way he would be able to continue on.
"Son of a bitch," Lanik cursed to himself, quickly pushing away the rubble and lifting Finnigan up over his shoulders. He had to move quickly.
@Thinslayer
If you want to write the ambush itself I can do the whole schpeil of the escaped soldier and Lanik finding him.
If you want to write the ambush itself I can do the whole schpeil of the escaped soldier and Lanik finding him.
@Thinslayer
That sounds like a great idea! Let's do it.
And Serani's a Cheshire -- very talented assasins with a very magical dominated genealogy. I wouldn't call it competition though. The two are pretty fed up with each other as it is. Haha.
That sounds like a great idea! Let's do it.
And Serani's a Cheshire -- very talented assasins with a very magical dominated genealogy. I wouldn't call it competition though. The two are pretty fed up with each other as it is. Haha.
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